I made myself a promise that I’d post here weekly (and hopefully not weakly). I promptly broke it. But a habit is still a habit once you pick it back up again. Nonetheless it’s frustrating. It’s also just where my life is at right now. I have two young children at home, because you go to grad school during your childbearing years, and I’m at home with them all the time, because when you get out of grad school, you’re unemployed. Or close enough.
When I got out of grad school, three (!) years ago, I was unemployed. I’d made the decision not to go on the market before finishing, because I’d been in too long in the first place, and had too many hurdles to overcome. I wanted to narrow my goals down to the one main goal, and a few maintenance goals, like regaining health after surgery and raising a three-year-old. I knew if I worried about a job search at the same time, I’d use it to derail myself from the dissertation, and vice-versa.
So I graduated, and I had nothing much to do except try to normalize my sleep patterns and wean myself off a wicked sugar habit. And, you know, dance every day, because HOLY PAUL I WAS DONE! I had socked away a little loan money, and had taken on a couple of dissertation editing jobs to make a little cash. (Speaking of which: if you have a dissertation you’d like someone to edit….I could use some cash. And I kick ass at it.) Otherwise, it was like summer vacation, back when that meant “summer vacation” — as opposed to now, when it just means my son is home from kindergarten and wants to give me daily lec-dems on his latest Lego creations (for real).
So there I was, dancing, not eating sugar, editing, taking melatonin, and my old boss called, asking what I was up to. This sort of thing happens to me sometimes. Not all the time — it sure ain’t happening right now, or not yet — but sometimes, when I need work, or direction, *POP*. It just shows up and announces itself. It was a prestigious position at an NEH funded project, and it looks dazzling on a resume. The pay was less than the standard graduate student stipend, and they wouldn’t budge much on that, though I bargained for conference funding. (I’m telling you, finishing gave me confidence, and being burned making peanuts for years made me more than willing to advocate.)
So the job I posted about last time? I wasn’t what they were looking for. I also interviewed for an adjuncting position for a massive state U., and I’m first on the bench. And I’ve sent in a few more adjuncting applications, and heard nary a peep back.
I’m waiting for the *POP*. And — since this is an outside academia blog, I’ll tell you — I have been getting all kinds of signs that this is how the next avenue in my life will appear. (Signs: as scientific as transubstantiation, but that’s okay, since the blog is not peer-reviewed. And I’m in literary studies, where the woo is strong.)
The hard thing about getting signs that something will happen is feeling powerless. It seems as though I might as well be flushing my applications down the toilet, for all the good they’re doing me. But I’m soldiering on, sending applications in, because serendipity needs *something* to work with, even if I don’t know what that thing might be.
In the meantime? I need to cultivate this writing habit, because again, serendipity needs something to work with, and I need to be a full person, inside *or* outside academia. I need to write about the woo and the kids, the dancing and the melatonin, the NEA and the NEH, the university and its double. (There: I’ve found something for myself to do, because this wikipedia page was clearly written by a teenager.)
Outside Higher Ed 